


Slow Progress Is Better Than No Progress

by fandomstakeoveryourlife



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dyslexia, Dyslexic Tom, Foreign Tord, Grumpy Tom, M/M, New kid Tord, Personal Space, Tom's dad is an asshole, Tutoring (kind of), essay writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-18 03:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomstakeoveryourlife/pseuds/fandomstakeoveryourlife
Summary: English had never been Tom's strong point.But maybe it could be with someone else's help.





	1. Chapter 1

English had never been Tom's strong point. 

He could solve stupid maths equations (to a certain point), he could name a shit ton of diseases and cancers related to smoking, he could list about 14 physics equations and the locations of multiple volcanoes across 4 tectonic plates, but he couldn't do English for shit.

His handwriting looked like an 8 year old's, he couldn't spell simple words, nor could he tell the difference between an adverb, an adjective or a pronoun. His sentences were a mess, his structuring for essays was all over the place, and don't even get started on his spelling. 

Tom missed a lot of school when he was younger. Most subjects hadn't been affected too badly, but his English levels plummeted and now he was going to fucking fail English.

 

A heavy breath of air rushed out of Tom's lungs in an irritated hiss. He was sat in the lunch hall, a lined piece of paper lay on the table before him. Several other pieces of paper lay around him, scattered across the stained lunch table, one of them being the essay plan his English teacher had printed up for him. It was supposedly meant to help him, but fuck that. Tom had no fucking clue what to do with it.

The sound of a plastic chair scraping over the floor made Tom flinch and jerk his head up. 

Edd flopped down into the seat opposite him with a cheery, yet tired smile, curling across his rosy cheeked face. "Hiya, Tom." He greeted as Matt sat down next to him, dumping his bag on the floor under the rectangular table. The chair next to Tom was pulled back and Tom whipped his head round to see who was taking a seat. He didn't have a third friend.

"Oh, this is Tord; he's new." Edd mentioned in a casual tone with a careless flick of his hand, his attention was on Matt now.

"Hello." The boy, Tord, said. His voice was thickly laced with a foreign accent. It sounded familiar, yet unlike any Tom had ever heard before. he could listen to it all day. The teenager was short and had pale skin with caramel coloured hair and hazel eyes. His hair hung over his eyes in a short fringe, yet stuck up in two weird horns at the same time. On his body, he adorned a pair of tight black skinny jeans and a red hoodie that clung to his torso in a way that showed off his lean, athletic build.

Tom realised he was staring and quickly averted his eyes back to his black piece of lined paper. It made him want to scream; why did they have to write mother fucking essays to get a stupid grade that meant next to nothing?!

"Tom, be nice, introduce yourself to Tord. Talk to him or something." All three were looking at Tom, who now realised he'd just half zoned out. Tord had probably asked him somehing, or maybe Edd?

Tom refocused again and looked at Tord, who was watching him with bright eyes that held both curiosity and a little concern.

"I'm Tom." He grunted out, eager to get back to failing at writing his stupid essay. A look of confusion flickered across Tord's face, like he didn't understand why Tom was being hostile and short with him.

"It is nice to meet you, Edd told me much about you earlier today." Tord replied. Tom just kinda nodded and turned back to his work, he really wished he hadn't forgotten his earphones that morning. Even if his phone was dead, at least he'd be able to strangle Tord with them...or maybe himself, at least he wouldn't have to do the essay then.

"What are you working on?" 

Tom flinched violently away from Tord. Holy fuck, the guy had been leaning over his shoulder and right into his personal space. Tord jerked back too, his eyes wide at Tom's reaction. Edd and Matt were staring now too.

"Tom? You okay?" Edd asked tentatively. Tom pushed himself back upright, trying to calm his racing heart and slow his short, panting breaths. He nodded breathlessly.

"I'm...Sorry. I did not think you would react like that." Tord explained, the look of concern was very present now in his cinnamon eyes.

Tom licked his lips. "Sorry, I just...Don't like people in my personal space." Tord slowly nodded in an understanding way. "Okay, I shall be careful of that in the future."

He cleared his throat before speaking again. "So, what is it that you are writing?" 

Tom watched Edd and Matt return to their gooey conversation in his peripheral vision, then answered. "I'm, um, meant to be writing an essay." Tord's honeyed eyebrows knitted together.

"What do you mean by 'meant to be'?" He asked, clearly confused. Tom licked his lips again; it suddenly felt as if a huge weighted pressed had dropped down onto his shoulders. He swallowed hard.

"I can't do it."

"I am sorry?"

"I. Can't. Do. It."

Tord's frown deepened even more. Tom felt sick. "What can you not do?"

He sighed heavily and clenched his hands into angry fists. "I can't fucking write essays!" His exclamation came out louder and harsher than he'd intended; several students on the surrounding tables turned round to see what was going on.

"Sorry." Tom mumbled, ducking his head down as he felt his cheeks begin to heat up.

Tord seemed a little shocked, but he quickly brushed it away with a casual shake of his head. "It is fine." He hesitated for a moment. "I could help you, if you would like?" Tom wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a statement or a question.

"If you do not want help, that is fine, I was just offering." Tord quickly backtracked when Tom didn't reply immediately.

"What? No, no. I...I would really appreciate it, if you helped me. Like really,  _really_ appreciate it." Tom said hastily in case Tord suddenly changed his mind. 

A wide grin split across Tord's face. "That is great. How about after school today? In the library perhaps?" 

Tom's eyes went wide. Wow, Tord really wanted to help him. Jeez. "Um, sure, I'll meet you there."

Tord nodded and Tom averted his eyes away from his face; the crazy grin was really starting to creep him out now. Edd and Matt were still in deep conversation about something or other. 

Edd seemed to notice that the other two had fallen silent. "You guys okay?" He asked, though his joyous smile appeared to override his concern. Tord nodded in an over the top way. "Yes, we are good. I am going to help Thomas with his essay after school."

Tom winced at the use of his full name, but Tord didn't seem to notice. Only Tom's dad used his full name, and it only ever caused him to think of bad memories now. Abruptly, a sick feeling washed over him. 

"Oh, cool!" Edd exclaimed, dragging Tom from his thoughts. "Matt and I are going on a date after school anyway, so that's sorted." He glanced over at Matt, who was trying to decide which selfie to have as his lockscreen. Tom rolled his eyes.

The deafening noise of the lunch bell ripped through the still air of the lunch room. A sudden uproar broke out as students rushed to get their bags and hurry off to their lessons. Tom shoved the essay paperwork haphazardly into his battered backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

"After school in the library, yeah?" He asked, looking at Tord.

"Yes, after school, we shall meet in the library." Tord confirmed. 

A brief smile flickered across Tom's lips, before he turned and left the lunch hall.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom hurried down the corridor in the direction of the library. He knew he was late, but it wasn't his fault....not really. Some asshole in his last class of the day, Geography, had made a comment about kids with abusive parents, that if they don't do anything about it, they're just begging for attention.

Tom hadn't really meant to explode at the guy, he just, sort of, had. His teacher held him behind and lectured him on why punching people in the nose isn't a good thing to do. She then asked him if everything was okay at home. Tom liked her, but the sympathetic look in her eyes made his stomach turn and he told her everything was "fine".

Tom turned the corner and saw Tord stood outside the library doors, glancing at his watch; he looked a little impatient. Tom swallowed hard and slowed to a walking pace. 

Tord turned at the sound of footsteps and a smile flashed across his lips as he saw who it was. 

"Tom, I was concerned that you were not coming." He called out, pocketing the mobile that had been held in his hand.

Tom grimaced a little; he really hoped Tord wouldn't make him explain everything. "Sorry, teacher kept me behind." Tord nodded in understanding and gestured to the doubles doors over his shoulder.

"Shall we go in? We can find somewhere quiet to work, if you would like?" His eyes seemed to search Tom's for confirmation, who nodded in reply. Tord smiled encouragingly, then turned and pushed open one of the doors, leading Tom in.

They quickly found a table and sat down side by side. Tom pulled out his essay work and Tord put a thick pad of lined paper on the table top with a tightly packed pencil case. They spread the sheets of essay work out over the table. 

"Right, so you are writing an essay on _An Inspector calls_?" Tord asked. Tom nodded, even though he thought the question was pointless because it was clearly printed in bold letters across the top of one of the pieces of paper. He licked his lips anxiously as Tord grabbed a couple sheets and shoved several others out the way to spread them out in front of the two.

"So, you need a plan to start with, okay?" Tom nodded numbly again. Tord frowned a little at him. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine." Tom mumbled. He made brief eye contact with the shorter teen, before looking back at the scattered paper.

Tord cleared his throat noisily and continued. "So, what is your big idea?" Tom's eyebrows drew together and his forehead puckered. 

"Big idea?" He asked in a confused tone. "What's that?" 

Tord chewed his lip. The expression on his face clearly showed that he thought Tom would know more than he did. "A 'big idea' is the thing you base your entire essay around, you can make up your 'big idea' from the question you get given, so the 'big idea' varies from person to person, if that makes sense."

Tom blinked at the load of information that had been dumped upon him. "I-I think it does."

Tord nodded. "Okay, well your question is 'Suggest how Mr Birling is used by J.B.Priestly to present his ideas and opinions', so, your big idea could be 'Priestly uses Mr Birling as a representation of all Capitalists thought and acted', yes?"

Tom licked his lips again. "Okay, so..." He trailed off, shifting through the many loose sheets of paper. "...How would I then write the essay from my 'big idea'?"

A smile briefly flickered across Tord's lips. "Well, you need a topic, or subject, for each paragraph. So, the first one could be 'Priestly uses Dramatic Irony'." He paused. "You know what Dramatic Irony is, right?"

Tom nodded, at least he knew one thing in the stupid task. Tord grinned at him. "Great. Let's get started."

The two worked together to write up a plan. The 'big idea' sat in the middle, with paragraph topics branching off of it like a spider diagram, or a brain storm. They ended up with 6 paragraphs, one being the introduction, another being the conclusion.

"Well, alright then. Would you like to take a break before we start writing the actual essay?" Tord asked, turning his head to look at Tom with inquisitive hazel eyes. Tom nodded nodded and quickly tore his eyes away, breaking the contact between them; it made him feel uncomfortable and pressured.

Tord pulled out his phone and Tom pushed back his chair before rising to his feet and stretching his arms above his head, a yawn cracking his jaw. He strode away from the table and paced along the bookshelves; he really needed to walk around after working, even though it had barely been half an hour. He flicked his eyes over a couple of book titles, before losing interest and pacing alongside another shelf.

The table they'd picked was tucked away, in a corner, surrounded on all sides by bookshelves that towered over Tord and were a good half a meter taller than Tom. It was pretty quiet in the area they'd chosen, only the sounds of coughs, muffled by the thick shelves, and the occasional noisy squeak of the book trolley reached them through the dense wood and ageing books.

Tom flopped back down in his seat beside Tord, rolling his neck as he did so, so that several loud cracks could be heard. Tord pulled a face, wrinkling his nose to show his distaste. 

"That is gross."

Tom rolled his eyes. "It's not that bad."

Tord's expression begged to differ.

"Alright then, let's start writing." Tord announced. Tom gave a single curt nod and took the pad of lined paper from the other teenage boy. He pulled out a well chewed biro (much to Tord's disgust, again) and held it above the paper, poised.

Then he looked up at Tord with another frown settled down on his forehead.

"What?" Tord asked, amusement clear in his tone.

"I...I don't know how to start it." Tom explained. He twirled the pen between his fingers and scowled hard at the paper.

Tord snorted with laughter. "Well looking at the paper like that is not going to help; what has it done to you?"

"Fuck off." Tom growled, which only made Tord flip his head back and laugh even harder. Tom's scowl deepened and he threw his chewed pen at the other teen. 

Tord took several deep breaths as Tom retrieved his pen and attempted to keep the stupid grin off of his face. He waited until Tom was seated again, before continuing.

"Your first paragraph is your introduction, like we planned." Tord explained.

Tom rolled his eyes. " _Yes_ , _I know that_. _I mean_ , how do you start _writing_ it."

Tord nodded in understanding. "Ah, okay. Well, you could write 'In _An Inspector Calls_ , J.B.Priestly uses Mr Birling as a representation of all Capitalists and their actions to get his message across to the audience of the play'. Yes?"

Tom nodded and began to scribble down what Tord had said. Tord, meanwhile, leaned over Tom' shoulder, careful not to get too close, and pointed out things for the spikey haired teen to add or to change. 

They began to work together again and Tord helped Tom to write all six paragraphs, including the conclusion.

 

Tom slumped back in his chair and looked at the two and half pages of messy handwriting that was apparently an essay. His hand was cramping painfully and his wrist ached from continuous movement, plus there was a headache building quickly behind his eyes, pounding into his skull.

Tord grinned over at him. "You see? Easy!" 

Tom rolled his eyes and didn't reply. He pulled out his shitty phone and checked the time. Fuck, it was 5:30. His dad always wanted him home by 5. Fucking shit.

Tord must had seen the anxious expression on Tom's face because he turned to fully face him, concern etched into his handsome features. "Is everything okay, Thomas?"

Tom flinched way harder than he should have done and nodded his head numbly. "Yeah, I'm fine." He paused. "I need to go."

Tord seemed to miss the urgency in Tom's voice, because he just smiled widely and nodded. "Of course, as do I. Let me know how the essay goes." Tom nodded and shoved his stuff hurriedly into his shitty backpack, before slinging it over his shoulder.

"See you tomorrow!" Tord called after him as he strode through the library towards the door.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." And he was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was Chapter 2.   
> I don't think I'll be able to get the next chapter out before Christmas, but I'll write it as soon as I can.  
> Stay safe guys and happy holidays to y'all.


	3. Chapter 3

Tom was perched on the end of his uncomfortable plastic chair. The rough edge dug painfully into the back of his legs, but he didn't notice; his English teacher was handing back their essays. She reached his row and handed back work to the three other students that sat there. She paused by Tom, then put her hand on his shoulder. 

"Stay behind after class." She said in a quiet voice, before continuing on to the next row, placing stapled paper on desks again. Tom twisted round in his seat and watched her for a moment, then turned back and swallowed hard.

Why did she want to talk to him privately?

Had he done something wrong?

Had he completely flunked it? Even though he had help?

Tom  worried his lower lip between his teeth. He drummed his fingers anxiously on the desk, but a sharp looks from the kid next to him quickly put a stop to that. He folded his arms instead, tucking his shaking hands into his armpits. 

The bell screamed out over the noisy chatter of the classroom, signaling the end of the lesson and the start of lunch. All the other teenagers in the room began hurriedly cramming their books in their bags and tearing out the door like caged animals set free. Tom, on the other hand, took a little more time putting his work away, before rising to his feet and waiting by the desk belonging to the teacher, Miss Harker, at the front of the class.

Miss Harker finished collecting up a stack of paper and sat down at her desk. Tom licked his lips nervously.

The teacher pulled out an essay; Tom's.

She studied his face for an intense moment with her piercing blue eyes. Then a crazily wide smile broke out across her tanned face.

"That, Mr Ridgewell, was one incredible essay!" She exclaimed, slapping the stapled sheets of paper down on the desk between them. Tom guess he must have looked shocked, because the teacher laughed. 

"Did you have help?" 

Tom nodded. "Uh, y-yeah. Tord Larsson helped me." He had picked up the paper and was staring at the _C_  written in green ink and circled several times with a huge scrawled smiley face next to it.

"Ahh, oh yes, he's new, isn't he?" 

Tom nodded. "Yeah."

"He's from Norway; I love their accents." The teacher fell silent, as if she was lost in her thoughts about Norwegian accents. Tom suddenly remembered that it was lunch and his friends would be waiting for him. Shit.

"Um, thanks, Miss." He turned and began to make his way out of the classroom, his bag slung over his shoulder and his essay grasped painfully tight in his shaking hands.

"You're welcome, Tom." Miss Harker called after him.

 

 

Tom burst into the lunch hall. He spotted the table on which his friends were sitting and picked up his pace a little.

"Tord." He called. "Tord!"

Tord's head snapped around and a wide grin spread over his face. "Thomas!" For some reason, he still hadn't learnt that Tom really didn't like being called by his full name, though it certainly sounded much better coming from Tord than from is abusive asshole of a father.

Tom reached the table and slammed the essay down in front of Tord. "I got a C!" He exclaimed breathlessly. He could feel his cheeks going pink from excitement.

Tord grinned up at him manically. "Congratulations!" Tom ducked his head a little in embarrassment. 

"We should celebrate after school, you and I. How about the cafe in the center of town?" Tord suggested. Tom nodded and collapsed down into the seat next to Tord. He looked over at Edd and Matt, then scrunched up his face in disgust. It kinda looked like Matt was eating Edd's face. Gross.

Tord nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it is kind of disgusting."

Tom's eyebrows shot up. "Kind of?!"

"Eh, I have seen my dads do worse on our sofa in Norway. I was too scared to sit on it for weeks." Tord shuddered at the memory. Tom nodded, silently taking in that Tord's parents were gay. Thinking about it, he would love that. He would actually have understanding parents that weren't homophobic as shit. To be honest, he would give anything to even just have two parents, not one shitty one. He just wished his dad was at least accepting. But no. His father would rather cut his own balls off and staple them to his front door, than have a gay son.

Tom realised his eyes were watering and he hastily wiped his dark pooling eyes with a hard sniff.

"Tom? Are you okay?" Tord sounded, and looked, concerned. 

Tom nodded hastily. "Y-Yeah, just thinking." Tord didn't look convinced, but he didn't say anything.

 

*     *     *     *

 

Tom stood waiting outside Tord's classroom. Towards the end of lunch, they'd discussed how they'd meet up. They'd agreed that Tom would come wait for Tord after his lesson, due to that Tom's teacher tended to end his lessons a little early, which gave Tom time to walk over to the other boy's classroom and wait. So here he was.

The bell rang out and the class swiftly emptied itself from the room; Tord was one of the last out. A pleasant smile crept over his face as he spotted Tom. 

"Let's go." He said.

They walked side by side down the corridors and outside, then through the wrought iron school gates and along the pavement in the direction of the center of town. As the walked, a silence hung over them. It was a weird silence; it was both comfortable and tense at the same time. Tom wished it wouldn't be. When situations got tense, they reminded him of his dad. And that was something he never wanted to be reminded of.

Eventually, they reached the quaint coffee shop. Tord pushed over the door and held it open so Tom could enter before him. Tom blushed and Tord smiled at his reaction. And just like that, all the tension, that had strangled them on the walk over, melted away in seconds.

They stood by the counter and scanned over the drinks.

"Hi, what can I get you today?" The cashier asked. Tom eyed her piercings with interest.

"Um, can we get a large Caramel Latte and..." He trailed off looking at Tom.

"A, uh, large white chocolate mocha, please." Tom mumbled. It was stupid, but ordering a drink was making his heart thump distressingly hard. He licked his lips and looked away.

"Would you like anything else?"

"Um..." Tord's eyes skimmed over the desserts on show. "Can we get a peanut butter brownie, and a lemon tart, please." 

"Sure, that'll be £9.75, please." The cashier was smiling pleasantly at them. Tord handed her a tenner and pocketed the change she dropped back into his outstretched palm.

The two moved over to the side to wait for their drinks and desserts while another customer was served. Tord realised that Tom had gone completely silent and was fidgeting with his phone, twisting it anxiously between his shaky fingers.

Tord gently nudged Tom with his elbow. Tom looked down at him with wide dark eyes. Tord slipped his arm around Tom and gently pulled him a little closer against his lean torso. Tom pressed himself closer, searching for comfort.

"One caramel latte and one white chocolate mocha." The barista set their drinks down on the counter, next to the plate with the brownie and tart. Tord removed his arm and collected their drinks, leaving the desserts to Tom, who picked up the plate and began to look for seats. He chose two big squishy armchairs that squatted around a moderately heighted table in one corner.

They set the drinks and food down on the table, before sinking gracelessly into the cushy seats. Tom let out a giggle at Tord tried to sit up and got a little stuck in the chair. 

Tord sipped his caramel latte. When he looked up Tom, he could barely hold back his snicker at the foam moustache that had decorated his upper lip. He gestured to his face as Tom sent him a very confused look. Tom's tongue darted out and he licked his upper lip. He seemed surprised by the cream he found there, which made Tord laugh harder.

"Thank you, by the way." Tom said suddenly.

Tord frowned at him in confusion. "What for?"

Tom rolled his eyes and looked at him like he was stupid. "For helping me write my essay, for getting me a good grade."

Tord shook his head. "No, no no. _You_ were the one who got yourself a good grade. I just pointed you in the right direction; gave you a little guidance."

Tom blinked at him, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah I guess so."

"Yeah, you'd better."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey,  
> So this is my first work, and any tips or anything would be greatly appreciated.  
> Also, sorry for any mistakes, and the next chapter should be coming fairly soon.  
> Hope you guys liked it :)


End file.
